Puck's Master
by NastifaceX
Summary: Sorry for the sucky title, y'all!  Puck knows he's a badass, but he still can't help wishing Kurt Hummel,of all people, would order him around...
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I am not Ryan Murphy. Ryan Murphy is not me. (Hey, that kinda rhymed! Well…kinda)**

**Warnings: Slash sex was here, as well as a teensy bit of, what's it called again? Oh yeah, dom/sub. Top!Kurt lies here, so if that bothers/squicks/outrages/sickens you, please, feel free to jump ship while you still can! Oh yeah, and there's a bit of language, cuz that's how I fucking roll. Deal with it, biatches!**

Now, if there was one thing Puck knew about himself, it was that when it came to badasses, he was number wah. With that knowledge came a list of rules. Puck knew that most people in Glee Club, and even in the whole school, didn't think badasses had rules, but they did, and they were pretty much the only rules he followed. There were quite a few of them, but the main one was: Never let anyone, _anyone, _dominate you. You may have to do what someone says, but you don't _ever_ act the submissive in any situation, _ever._

That's why, when Puck began to notice just what a little bitch/badass Kurt "Lady-face" Hummel was, and started thinking it'd be really hot to be ordered around by him, he began to get a little worried. Of course, not too worried, cuz that would undermine his badassness even more, and, well, have you _seen_ his guns? If he had those and wasn't a badass, it would be…something bad! Like treachery or something. A waste of a God-given gift if there ever was one!

…But, seriously, watching Kurt Hummel strut around McKinley in painted on skinny jeans that did wonders for his considerable package and hearing him put down any lowly freshman who was unfortunate to get on the wrong side of his ire was a huge turn-on for Puck, as much as he'd like to deny it. And deny it he did, that is, until Hummel found out.

It had been totally by accident, of course, that he did. Puck had woken up late that morning in the middle of one fucking epic orgasm. That wasn't really a problem, in and of its self, but the wet dream that caused it was. See, in the dream, Puck had been getting his ass reamed by none other than the Ice Queen of McKinley High and self-proclaimed only member of the Glee Divos Club, Kurt Hummel. Yeah, who'd a thunk that, huh?

So, yeah, his defenses were already kinda lowered, and in the dream Kurt had been so…dominating, but definitely kind of, dare he say it, loving as well. So when he saw Hummel hop out of "his baby", he hurried up the stairs in hopes that Hummel would ignore him, as usual, and he could get away undetected and unhumilated. No such luck, Puck.

"Noah! Get over here and carry this for me!" Kurt Hummel's voice was both commanding and condescending, but somehow, a layer of a certain amount of, again, dare he say it, fondness was in it. And Puck, well, he couldn't help it, and it was just a damn shame that the aroused shudder that ran through his whole fucking body was all too visible and identifiable to Kurt, um, he meant, Hummel. Hummel's eyes widened in surprise before his face returned to his normal default setting. He simply motioned to the box and stepped to the side, waiting for Puck to fetch it.

Puck did, and he carried it along behind Kurt, sneaking glances at what would have looked like his ass. Not that Puck wasn't interested in Hummel's ass, cuz, dang, that shit was fi-i-ine! But no, it was the boots that Hummel was wearing that was doing him in. They were black leather that clung tightly to his muscular calves. They looked…surprisingly masculine, but also with a touch of feminine sexiness to 'em. In short, they gave Hummel a very dominatrix look, and Puck was ashamed to realize that Puckzilla was up and ready to play.

And when Hummel looked back over his shoulder, he saw it too. His only reaction was a raised eyebrow in a sorta "really?" look before he continued into the school and had Puck put the box in the choir room. Shooing him off, Hummel turned back to the box and bent over to rummage in it while he muttered to himself. Taking only a moment or two to admire his ass and also make sure Hummel wasn't going to call him out on what happened earlier, Puck quickly escaped the room. Well, it seemed Hummel was gonna be decent about it and not bring it up. Puck, extremely relieved, walked over to the nurse's office with his customary smirk and swagger while whistling tunelessly.

Had he known Kurt, damnit, Hummel, had an evil plan to keep him hard and aching all day, he wouldn't have been so relaxed. It seemed that everywhere he looked, there was Hummel in his tight army green jeans, black dominatrix boots, sparkly gold low v-necked shirt thing that showed just a little bit of the line between his pecs and the very surprising light dusting of tan hair on his chest. Puck was pretty darn sure he had drooled a little bit when he "accidently" overheard Hummel say to Aretha that he had gone commando. All in all, Hummel was pretty much, or so it seemed to Puck, screaming sex, but it was only at Glee that afternoon that Puck realized that Hummel was doing it _on purpose._

"Excuse me, Mr. Schue, I have a song I want to sing," Hummel spoke up towards the end of the meeting. Schue nodded, looking surprised cuz Hummel rarely volunteered to just get up and sing outside of an assignment; he left that to Berry. Okay, so Puck could admit, at least to himself, that he paid a lot more attention to Hummel than he did to…basically anyone else in his life, except maybe his little sister. He didn't have time to become alarmed over the fact because as soon as Kurt…damnit all, Hummel, stalked, yes, _stalked,_ into the room, all coherent thought fled his mind.

His hair was teased into a sexy mess on top of his head, he wore an unzippered silver leather trench coat that came to his mid-thigh and showed his surprisingly muscled torso. A pair of practically painted on black leather pants lovingly cradled his legs and those same super-sexy boots were on his feet. He wore black leather fingerless gloves, a black collar with a dangling silver ankh charm, and thick black guyliner. His eyes locked onto Puck's and his soft lips that were coated in a shiny layer of midnight black with silver accents pulled back into a seductive smirk. Then the music began and he started to sing.

Adam Lambert's "_For Your Entertainment"_ pumped out and Kurt began to work it. His hips had a subtle shimmy to them as he stalked about the room, singing like none of them had ever heard him sing. Finally, he got to Puck, and sang the last verse to him, staring into his eyes, and Puck just knew that Kurt knew.

It became evident after he finished singing the song and graciously accepting his friend's congratulations. Kurt beckoned covertly to Puck, and as annoyed as his inner badass was at his total state of whipped-ness, as Kurt left the room, he followed along behind him like a lost puppy…no, even worse, like a smitten Finn after Rachel Berry. Ugh, sometimes Puck disgusted even himself with his behavior. He had no time to dwell on his self-disgust; cuz Kurt had just led him into the locker room, where the young divo was enticingly removing his outfit.

"Strip, Puck." The command was both casual and absolute, as if there was no doubt in his mind that Puck would disobey, but there would be terrible consequence if he did. It was pretty much the first time Puck ever feared the consequences of his actions, and it sent a pleasurable spasm through his body. He stripped quickly. Badassness aside, Kurt seemed interested in ordering him around, so he was gonna take what he could get.

"Get the shower warm for me, and then wash me," Kurt directed, and Puck did so, trying uselessly to hide his pleasure at the commands.

His soap-coated hands slid all over Kurt's warm body, lingering in certain places and enjoying his smooth, soft, porcelain skin, however, when one soapy digit tried to slide into his butt-crack, Puck jumped back in shock. Kurt shot him a half confused, half angry face.

"You didn't really think I would let you stick your cock up my ass, did you, Noah? No, you are my bitch right now, Noah, so turn around, bend over, spread your asscheeks, and take this like a man," He growled. Puck just about turned to a puddle of goo on the tile floor before scrambling to follow the orders.

He waited, and waited, but Kurt didn't seem to be doing anything, so he gave his ass a quick wiggle. Kurt's hand came down with a hard "whap", and Puck half squealed, half moaned at the unexpected pain. The brunet spent another minute making Puck's behind warm and red. By the time he stopped, Puck almost wanted to bust right then, but Kurt had other plans. He knelt down and slid his mouth tantalizingly closer to Puck's asshole.

Puck had eaten out one or two of the MILFs' asses, but he'd never had it done to him. He knew the ladies loved it, and he, despite having never really thought about if before, felt himself almost breaking down and begging for Kurt to just lick him already!

"Beg me for it, baby," Kurt's voice was no less commanding for the husky tone it had taken, and Puck lost any last hesitation he had. He'd seen enough porn to know how this went.

"Please, Master, please, lick me! Please!" he whined, trying to stomp down the part of him yelling in ashamed rage.

"Hmm, that's right, babe, I am your Master. And you're going to be a good little slave for Master, aren't you? You're going to stay right here and let your Master lick your dirty little ass, then fuck you with his fingers, before fucking your little asshole with his big cock, yes?" Kurt almost groaned out the last part before diving in with his tongue. Puck answer dissolved into a yowl of pleasure.

Before he knew it, he was gasping, moaning, and pleading as Kurt ruthlessly rammed three fingers into his prostate and kept the base of his cock in a vise grip. Finally, Kurt seemed to deem him ready and pulled out his fingers. Puck couldn't contain his embarrassingly needy whine at the loss. Kurt's answering rumbling chuckle sent shivers through his limbs. Then, Kurt held his own cock and rubbed it ever so teasingly over Puck's grasping hole. He broke down.

"Oooh, Master, yess! Please, fuck me, fuck me! Master, please, please!" he whined again. Still, Kurt refused to push in, and Puck thought he might just break down in tears from the waiting. Just as one tear slid down his face, Kurt slammed his dick in. Puck tried to grip at the tiles in front of him as he shrieked in intermingled pleasure/pain. His Master gave him no time to regain his breath before pulling out and ramming his way back in. Again and again his Master reamed him, thrusting hard against his prostate and causing stars to dot his vision.

Several times Puck thought he would be allowed to finally come, but Kurt kept his cruel grip on his cock, fucking him for what seemed like hours. Puck felt delirious with pleasure, sure that he would pass out at any moment if he didn't come soon. It was only once was he had dissolved into tears and incoherent pleads and versions of his Master's name that Kurt saw fit to release him. With one last dead-on thrust he commanded him.

"Come for me, babe," he grunted into Puck's ear. That was more than enough, and Puck came with a wail that echoed in the room. Once his back had finally stopped arching in pleasure, he slumped against the wall, spent completely. Kurt took a couple more thrusts before he too came with a growl, shooting his spunk deep into Puck. The Jewish boy groaned helplessly at the strangely erotic filled feeling. Slowly, Kurt pulled out before stepping back and getting back down on his knees to watch his cum slide slowly out of Puck's gaping hole. He leaned forward and hovered for a moment before leaning in further and beginning to suck his own cum out of the mohawked teen's asshole. When he had collected most of it, he stood up and pulled Puck around before slamming his mouth to his and using his tongue to channel the cum into Puck's mouth. Puck allowed it in, swallowed it, and sucked playfully at Kurt's tongue. The ex-kicker pulled back with a chuckle and pulled Puck under the shower to clean the drying cum off his abs.

"…So, babe…want to go to Breadstix tonight with me?" He asked as he washed Puck's pecs tenderly. Puck's eyes crinkled at the corners as he gave the biggest smile of his life. He looked down at his toes and replied looking up shyly through his lashes.

"…Yeah, sure, I'd like that."

**AN: Well, Jason, I hope you like this! I spent hours I should totally have been using sleeping (or reading the next H.I.V.E. book) writing this thing, so you'd better be fucking grateful. Y'know, this was not how I expected the story to go at all. I'd been thinking a slightly commanding Kurt topping a slightly submissive Puck. Oh well, plot bunnies these days, (*shrugs*) what're you gonna do? Anywho, hope you enjoy reading this even more than I enjoyed writing it! Cheers, chickies!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: If I was Ryan Murphy, Glee would just keep going as it is. Fuck you, progressing timeline!**

**Warnings: Top!Kurt, bottom!Puck, dom/sub, language, whatever else comes into my twisted mind, and slightly changed writing style, as it's been a while and I'm not really sure just how I wrote the first bit**

"MEL! Where's my shirt?" Puck bellowed as he furiously rooted through the piles of clothes lying about his room.

"What shirt, Noah?" Melanie Puckerman sighed as she snapped her gum, leaning against his door jamb and splitting her attention between his frantic search and the _Vogue_ magazine clutched in her hand.

"My, my, shirt! You know, the one with the, the, um…Mel…what shirt should I wear?" he mumbled, defeated. Mel's eyes rolled almost painfully as she strode into his space. Slapping her magazine down she kicked a path to his closet and began to systematically search, only the lazy snapping of her gum showing how smug she felt. Puck sighed. Damn him for a baby who needed help getting dressed, but this was a date with Kurt "Mr. Sexy" Hummel himself, and Puck would double damn himself before he showed looking like, well, a baby.

"Damn, Noah, do you _ever_ properly put away your clothes? No, no, don't answer; it's clear you do not. Here, wear this shirt with…those jeans…your studded belt…and these shoes. Also, wear the leather bracelet I got you last year," Mel commanded. Puck pouted…that is to say, his lip poked out in a manly expression of chagrin.

"I asked for help with a shirt, not the whole damn outfit," he muttered, even as he slipped out of the jeans he was already wearing and leaned over to pull the pair Mel had pointed out of off the floor.

"Oh God, Noah! Please! I'm still in the room, you know! How do you expect to keep a cultured person like Kurt when you strip in front of, ugh, _everyone!_ You even stripped in front of Great-aunt Natalia, Noah, _twice!"_ Mel shouted, snapping her arm over her eyes and scrunching her nose in annoyance. Puck laughed as he adjusted his package to rest comfortably in the rather tight jeans.

"I thought we promised not to talk about that, seeing as I was too stoned to know my name, both times. And, Melanie, darling little sister mine, how do you think I _got_ such a cultured person as Kurt in the first place, hm?" Melanie's eyes widened at his words, and her eyes fell helplessly to his groin, even covered as it was while he struggled to lace his boots.

"You've fucked him already? Why would he let you do that?" She yelled as Puck checked in the mirror to make sure his shirt was in place was in place. Then he strapped on the leather bracelet and smirked at his sister by way of the mirror.

"Why _wouldn't_ he let me do that? C'mon, sis, I'm Puckasaurus!" he boasted as he walked out of the room and down the stairs. Mel opened her mouth to speak, but just then, a horn blew outside the house, and Puck quickly opened the door and stared walking out to idling Navigator.

"…And who said it was me fucking him, huh?" he threw back over his shoulder as he hopped smartly into the car. He couldn't help the grin that burst across his face as Kurt pulled out.

Mel, still standing shocked at the door, sighed and closed her gaping jaw.

"Boys!" she sniffed and marched primly back into the house to tell Brandy all about it on the phone.

"So, Noah, what was that you said to your sister before we left?" Kurt asked calmly, eyes following the Dr. Pepper that he was swirling smoothly around in his wine glass.

"Oh, nothing, really," Puck quickly muttered, trying to will away the boner he had popped as soon as Kurt had told him that due to overbooking at Breadstix, they'd be having their date alone at the Hudmel house. So far, the whole "willing away" thing wasn't going so well.

"Noah…" Kurt murmured warningly, eyes still infuriatingly glued to his beverage. Puck moaned under his breath and crossed his legs. Damn, now he looked like a fucking girl with wet panties on a date with her crush. Ugh!

"Well, she thought I was the, um, _dominate_ one in our, um, _relationship,_" Puck finally caved. Unfortunately, Kurt still didn't. He cracked a little though, as his eyes dilated slightly and a slight smirk curved his lips.

"…Did she now? And did you set her straight, babe?" The usage of the word "babe" was all it took for Noah to realize that the mood had changed. Hehe, well, it looked like Master had caved after all!

"Yes, Master, I did," this was said with his eyelids lowered, looking up at his Master through his eyelashes. Master placed his glass down with a precise little tap, wiped his mouth daintily, and stood up gracefully from his chair.

"Excellent, darling. Now, would you like to go play with Master in his room?" Noah nearly snapped his neck as he nodded eagerly.

"Hm, yes, I thought so. Come along then, Noah-darling. We will take care of the dishes later." And Noah hurried up to stand and follow Master down the stairs to his room, closing the door behind him and feeling aroused anticipation coil heavily in his gut. He swallowed.

Once down the stairs, Noah immediately stripped, then stood waiting for Master's orders.

"Now, babe, it's come to my attention that you do not know how to pleasure me orally. Do you want to learn, darling? He asked as he calmly undressed.

"Yes, please, Master!" Noah replied enthusiastically, eyes glued to the apex of his Master's lazily spread legs. Master gave a husky chuckle, and beckoned Noah over.

"Good then, my sweet. Come and show Master what you can do," he challenged. And Noah, already crawling to his place between his Master's legs, was all too happy to accept.

Damn, but he felt even more like a girl, or, more like a slut, feeling the saliva pooling in his mouth as he just looked at his Master's gorgeous cock gripped firmly in his hand. He resettled his weight on his knees, and tried to parse in his mind the best way to please his Master with his mouth.

He started with gobbling the whole thing down like that last corndog in the world. Of course, being substantially larger and more sensitive than a corndog, he was a bit more careful, but still, he knew that the only way to break the ice, so to speak, was to jump right in.

Once the jock had gotten in as much as he could, he reluctantly allowed it to slide out with a "pop". Then he began the slow task of thoroughly licking each and every part of Master's cock and balls. The taste was not what he expected, as he'd been expecting, by observation of his various conquests, something either unspeakable disgusting, or unspeakable delicious. But it tasted bland, like clean skin, and a bit salty and maybe a touch bitter.

Noah was very much relieved that it wasn't horrible, but, in a strange way, he was glad that it wasn't very delicious, either. It made it seem much more genuine, more like he was doing this for the pure pleasure of his Master, and the only pleasure he would be gaining would be from giving it all to his Master. The thought sent shivers down his spine, and he quickly engulfed his Master's erection again.

This time, he regurgitated it slowly, and sucked strongly on the sensitive head. Master groaned, and then placed one of his perfect hands on Noah's head, threading the slim fingers through his mohawk.

"Hmmm, yeah, that's it, baby. Master's baby is a good little cocksucker, yes? Hmm, yes. Now, baby, do you want Master's to fuck your mouth? Remember, if you want it, you have to ask nicely," Master crooned. Noah couldn't help moaning around the cock stuffed in his mouth. He pulled his head off, staring beseechingly up at his Master.

"Oh! Master, please, please, fuck my mouth! Please!" he begged. A cat-that-ate-the-canary smirk slowly curled Master's pink lips.

"Good boy. Now stay still for Master," he whispered as he tightened his grip.

At first it was a slow bobbing rhythm, and Noah quickly began adjusting his throat accordingly. But then he looks up, away from the neat sandy curls surrounding Master's dick, and was lost. Master's head was thrown back, a flush rapidly rising on his heaving chest, soft, wet lips parted in a gasp, and his free hand pinching his own rosy nipple. Noah couldn't stop the moan that vibrated his throat.

That seemed to be a switch for Master, and he became less rhythmic, less controlled. He tightened his grip again, and began to sloppily fuck Noah's mouth, with trails of Noah's saliva escaping his mouth and running down the divo's balls. And that was the end of that. Master came like a freight train, and Noah swallowed it like a tunnel.

"Hmmm, that was very good, Noah-darling. I would…help you out, but Dad and Carole will be home soon. We need to go clean up, and, later, maybe tomorrow, I'll let you ride my cock, okay, Puck?" And there was the switch. Puck nodded, got up, and got dressed and presentable. It may not have been an ideal ending to his evening, but then again, it was good for his Master, so it was good for him. He nodded to himself, content, and headed upstairs to help Kurt, visions of his perfect cock and all the delicious spots it could reach dancing merrily in his head.

He smiled. Next time.

**AN: So, by popular demand, here is the sequel to Puck's Master. I hope it lived up to the first, and that it was enjoyable. It took me a while, but I got it done! Anyway, this is really pretty much all thanks to Don'tBreakMyHeartAgain for encouraging me, reviewing, and reassuring me that the story was much loved. So much love back to her(him?), you rock, buddy! Adios, amigos!**


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